My daughter Anna came running up to me today after church, her latest creation of crayon and construction paper clutched in her outstretched hand. “Look what I made in Children’s Church,” she said, placing the artwork between us.
It was a page of cream-colored paper, folded in half, with bright red writing across the width of the page. “A Pocket of Help,” it said boldly.
“These are the things I can do to help you next week,” Anna declared proudly. And with the practiced motion of a salesman opening his portfolio, she flipped open the page.
Glued inside the fold of the page was a small paper pocket decorated with flowers, grass and a cloud-bedecked sky. Inside the pocket, their lobed tops peeking shyly over the lip, were three paper hearts: one orange, one red, and one blue.
Anna plucked the hearts from the pocket and began to eagerly explain each one. On each side of each heart she had drawn a picture representing her proposed helpful activity. She displayed each one carefully, announcing its intended purpose: “Feed my babies,” she said of the drawing of the baby bottle. “Help you vacuum,” described the stylized upright vacuum cleaner. “Brush my hair . . . , pick up the trash . . . , clean the dishes . . . ,” she continued, pausing with each announcement.
Then we came to the last picture: a small, meticulously drawn rainbow spanning the blue paper heart. “And watchin’ for rainbows,” she said with a final determination.
It was at that moment I realized wisdom presents itself in a multitude of forms, many of which are utterly unexpected. Here before me was a beautifully balanced week of life: a time for work, a time for play, and a time to sit back and be amazed by the world God has put before us.
Anna is still fascinated and amazed by the world around her. A bird’s feather or a dandelion tuft are sources of excitement and wonder. Somewhere along the way, I seem to have lost that ability. I can’t recall the last time I sat in awe of the beauty of something or marveled at the complexity of the life around me.
I gratefully accepted Anna’s “pocket of help,” especially in watchin’ for rainbows. I can use the advice of an expert.
Steve Vassey is a writer of blended fantasy. His first novel, The Centaur on the Stairs, will be available through Amazon later this year.
Steve began writing by recording vignettes of the small, but special moments in life. From there, he began a short story that “didn’t know when to stop.” He’s been writing novels ever since. A past president of the South Carolina Writers Workshop, and retired from careers in environmental science and information technology, Steve lives with his wife, Jody, in Cayce, SC, along with an outspoken cat and a forty-five pound lapdog.